


comfort

by xxxabbynormalxxx



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jealous Geralt, Jealousy, M/M, Medical Trauma, Nesting Instincts, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Touch-Starved Jaskier | Dandelion, but like only a little, fight, hes jealous of a pillow, how did no one do that tag yet, its a pillow you dick, jaskier and geralt both need to use their words, monster hunting related blood, no beta we die like men, no braincells here, really geralt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxabbynormalxxx/pseuds/xxxabbynormalxxx
Summary: Jaskier buys an omega comfort pillow, a perfectly normal purchase, it is wild and bizarre that he an omega has no comfort items or nesting materials. Geralt fails to use any braincells and is a jealous idiot because jaskier uses said pillow.WHATUP BITCHES ITS QUARANTINE AND SADNESS HERE WILL GERALT USE HIS WORDS? WILL JASKIER? NOT UNTIL THEYVE MADE A MESS THEY WONT!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 158
Kudos: 936





	1. Chapter 1

Comfort

Jaskier bought this _thing_ when they’re walking through the market in the largest town they’ve stopped at in a while and Geralt instantly hates it, it's giant and squishy and Jaskier insists that “ _Roach won’t mind carrying it look it weighs almost nothing please Geralt don’t be mean about this”_ ; and Geralt grumbles but just keeps walking thinking Jaskier will give up the omega comfort pillow before they leave town, he’s a fickle thing who grew up spoiled at court and it’s easier to give in instead of arguing, but he doesn’t.

Jaskier drags that stupid fluffy thing from town to town, snuggling it; and now Jaskier isn’t awake when he comes in from a hunt, oh no, he snuggles with that stupid disgusting pillow. It reeks of synthetic alpha and Jaskier smells like he _belongs_ to someone from constantly rubbing against that stupid pillow getting that fake floral alpha scent into his glands.

The innkeepers keep asking if they want separate rooms now because Jaskier drags that fucking pillow with him everywhere and the synthetic scent is so strong and so clearly not Geralt’s scent and Geralt is going to snap. They don’t _need_ separate rooms and Jaskier doesn’t _need_ to smell like some nonexistent alpha.

Geralt knows he is being unfair, most omegas live at home in a house after all, and they have nests and comfort objects galore; but Jaskier lives on the road he was doing so before he even met Geralt, he'd left his nest behind all on his own and now seems content to follow Geralt and the boy does look tired and on edge when Geralt comes in from a hunt, but if he were to ask Geralt would scent him no questions asked after all, what is a little bit of care between friends, especially if one is an omega, so really did the pillow have to have that stupid synthetic scent worked into the fibers like the worlds most cloying perfume.

Only a monster would begrudge Jaskier a single comfort item. Back at the market everyone had stared and whispered about the monster of an alpha, this beast would refuse his omega traveling companion such a basic need. So of course, Geralt had given in. he would give Jaskier the moon if he asked, but that fucking pillow. Suddenly the pillow isn’t just there on nights that Geralt has to leave Jaskier alone at an inn in some backwater hamlet for the night where Geralt has to fight down the urge to tell Jaskier to bar the door, no the pillow is there when they make camp on the road _"see Geralt! now I won’t end up draped across you waking you up",_ and sometimes Jaskier pulls it down off Roach's back to snuggle it when they stop for a quick rest.

Yes, Jaskier seems to have more energy, and yes his coloring is better (Geralt didn't even realize the boy was to pale, he had _always_ been that color how was Geralt to know he wasn't _supposed_ to be that shade) Geralt isn’t awful he’s not so stupid as to say something.

He would forget at times that Jaskier is in fact an omega, the boy never demanded contact or whined about having to sleep on the ground, Jaskier was the exception to omegas not being suited to the Witcher lifestyle, he was always strong no matter how much the little wafts of discomfort that hung around the boy burned Geralt’s nose, he never complained about any of it. Geralt used to forget about Jaskier’s omeganess but, that stupid pillow has pointed out that perhaps Jaskier wasn’t stronger or hardier than other omegas no, Jaskier was just more willing to put up with neglect than his counterparts.

Geralt doesn't mean to let his distaste for the stupid synthetic alpha pillow show (or Little Geralt as Jaskier had called it once, only once that is a line even Jaskier won’t cross again, before Geralt growled at him so harshly that even Jaskier the strongest o he'd ever met had bared his neck) but inevitably he snaps as a _beast_ (Geralt has always known deep down that he is a beast) is prone to do.

~~~*~~~

Geralt struggles up the stairs, his armor wet with blood and muck, eyes still bleeding alpha red unable to come down from the fight that’s still thrumming in his veins. He makes it to his door through the grace of the Gods, he just wants to rest, to rest and inhale the _safewarmhome_ scent that clings to Jaskier. The hunt was bad, the trail of dead omegas leading him to the monster’s nest would leave anyone shaken, even a Witcher.

When he opens the door Geralt is somehow unprepared for what he finds, he knew on an intellectual level what was behind the door to their room, he knew on some level that Jaskier would be there with his stupid pillow, he knew that before he even opened the door, Jaskier is always there, and where Jaskier goes the pillow goes.

When he opens the door, he doesn’t just find Jaskier asleep. No, he finds Jaskier gently rutting against his omega comfort pillow clearly having what must have been a very nice dream before Geralt he snapped and ruined.

He ruined it like his frayed self-control had been ruined because his omega, in his bed, rutting against another alpha's scent, is too much for Geralt this soon after a fight. To be filled with the scent of foreign alpha and omega pleasure while he still smells the blood on his armor is too much for even Geralt to bear.

He rips the pillow from Jaskier’s arms throwing it out the door seething, barely keeping himself from growling. Blood drips down his chin as Geralt’s fangs dig into his lip with the effort it takes to not start growling at Jaskier. Geralt holds his breath trying to remember, there isn’t an alpha here to challenge but that scent! That inescapable foreign scent!

Jaskier was having a great dream; dreaming of an assisted heat, a heat spent wrapped in pale arms staring up at golden eyes, instead of one spent locked in a dirty storeroom with Geralt, ever the martyr, standing guard on the other side of the door, growling at alphas who get close to the omega he is unwilling to get close himself. Jaskier is startled awake from said nice dream suddenly when his pillow his one comfort object is ripped out from under him.

He blinks the sleep out of his eyes not quite aware of the situation he’s in until he inhales and smells blood and fight and rage _fuckshitfuck_ , "Geralt?" Jaskier tries gently his jaw snapping shut as the alpha starts growling, Geralt stalks around the edges of the room, pacing, clearly unable to burn out the fight still rushing through his veins, rage positively rolling off him.

Jaskier feels tears welling up in his eyes flinching as a growl forces its way out of Geralt’s throat. This isn’t what Jaskier wanted, Gods he just wants to be good for Geralt, that’s all he’s ever wanted! He has tried to be less needy less clingy less _omega_. He wants to be good enough that maybe Geralt will scent him, not that he would ask, Jaskier may be a disaster of an omega but even he knows better than to make demands.

Jaskier flinches a bit before taking a deep breath "I'll just..." Jaskier whimpers baring his neck as Geralt’s eyes snap to him, unable to stamp down his instincts in time, "I'll get out of the way." he can’t seem to stop whimpering, can’t seem to be what Geralt wants, _Geralt likes strong omegas who don’t whine or cower, not whimpering crying messes!_ Jaskier chastises himself trying to gain control of his still not quite awake limbs as he stumbles out of the bed to inch towards the door so he can leave the alpha in peace.

Jaskier freezes in his tracks when the growl rumbling up out of Geralt’s chest wins out and he bares his fangs at the omega when he touches the doorknob to leave, "Or not! Or not! Easy Alpha, I can stay here!" Jaskier chokes out starting to panic a little he knows Geralt has no interest in him he knows that he didn’t mean to have that stupid dream and he especially didn’t mean to get _caught_ dreaming of Geralt. “Anything you want Alpha.”

Jaskier holds up both hands baring his neck to Geralt again "OK, this is fine," Jaskier smells like panic and shame as he reaches for the doorknob to shut the door. He freezes momentarily when the growling coming from Geralt turns to a snarl "I'm not gonna leave, just shutting the door" Jaskier’s knees wobble a bit as he resists submitting long enough to shut the door, the last thing they need is for some patron to wander by.

Jaskier curses his stupid biology, _now is not the time to turn into some needy bitch keep it together Julien_ Jaskier coaches himself, really that voice in the back of his head isn’t his, but Jaskier doesn’t have time to dwell on things that happened at court right now.

"See I won’t go near the door again Alpha just gonna head over to the bed…" Jaskier telegraphs his movements, keeping his posture as submissive as possible, as he heads towards the spot he was in before.

Geralt roars, _actually roars,_ as Jaskier goes to sit on the bed, the bed that reeks of foreign alpha, _his omega his bed his den_. Great storms towards the bed, towards the foreign alpha threat, towards the scent that is going to take his omega, his Jaskier.

Jaskier flinches away from Geralt his knees hitting the floor beside the bed hard enough that the bard knows just knows that walking tomorrow will hurt. He didn’t dare aim for the mattress, “Alpha" the omega begs keening and baring his neck, his posture so submissive so unlike the fiery annoying bard that normally sleeps beside Geralt.

 _FUCK,_ ok this is bad, he didn't mean to make Geralt _this_ mad at him! Sure Jaskier does tend to push his luck sometimes, insisting that he’s cold when he isn’t so he can lie next to Geralt at camp, or filling the silence as they walk with songs so he doesn’t start spilling stupid secrets about how bad he is. Jaskier thought he had fixed his more awful omega behaviors!

He hadn't realized his biology had gotten so, so out of control, that he would be _caught_ rutting against the mattress in his sleep! Geralt said from the beginning that there is no room for omegas in the world of Witchers and he thought he had it under control, he thought he had ground out his instincts enough to not bother Geralt.

"Won’t get in your bed alpha" Jaskier whines out. bowing deeper his biology winning out, begging the alpha to calm down "I know better now, it’s not my place alpha" he soothes head almost to the floor trying to calm the alpha. “I can follow rules I’ll do better” Jaskier is begging by this point, anything to not be sent away, adopting the most submissive posture he can manage and Geralt, lost to his Alpha, lets out a pleased rumble at Jaskier’s submission, at the acknowledgment of _his_ Alpha status, of him not that nasty other alpha scent.

 _Ok, I can work with this, I'll just fix him up and he'll calm down and things can go back to normal_ Jaskier tries to focus, his thoughts going syrupy as he gives in to instincts he hasn’t indulged since he was a boy, he thinks finally managing to formulate a plan; if he can just get the blood washed off the alpha, get the fight out of his scent maybe, just maybe he'll forgive Jaskier. Maybe he won’t send Jaskier away for being a filthy awful omega.

Jaskier crawls on his hands and knees nervous, even in his most instinctive moments he speaks out loud filling the silence, "OK Mr. Witcher, you're the Alpha. Your bed, your space, little omega Jaskier won’t hurt you, won’t misbehave again," Jaskier rambles as he carefully crawls closer on bruised knees, still shaking.

On a normal day Geralt would never hurt him, he knows his Witcher would send him away before he struck him, he would never hurt Jaskier on purpose, but the rage is hard to ignore, and the omega in him knows that with alphas an accident could always happen. Jaskier reaches out towards Geralt, voice shaking, still on his knees, eyes firmly on Geralt’s shins not daring to look any higher, not wanting to accidentally challenge the alpha.

"Fights over alpha, no threats here see just me!" Jaskier fights his biology trying to force his eyes up, “Just silly omega Jaskier!” Jaskier finally manages to force his eyes up enough that Geralt’s hip is visible and _OH!_ This, this is a thing Jaskier knows how to do! This he can deal with, never mind the rage pouring off Geralt, he's _hard_ and Jaskier, well Jaskier may not be good enough to mate but maybe he’s good enough for this; to give Geralt an outlet. He wouldn’t dream to think, he knows that Geralt would rather anyone else, but a hole is a hole and frustration is pouring off ~~his~~ the Witcher like a pot that’s boiled over.

Geralt is one more stupid whiney ~~sweet~~ omega noise away from going feral. He didn't intend for his night to go this way, he intended to get out of his armor and get into bed behind Jaskier and have the sleepy omega roll into his side with some lie about drafty windows, and Geralt would scent him while he slept and things would go back to normal! That stupid fucking pillow and his stupid fucking jealous had ruined everything! That pillow had taken his place, Geralt was so easily replaced that Jaskier did so with a fucking pillow, a pillow that he gave Jaskier the coin to purchase no less!

Geralt has been holding his breath since that first mouthful of _arousalwarmhomesafe_ trying not to breathe in that sweet omega scent that his room was full of when he came in. Jaskier's bold little hands reach for his bulge and Geralt in a moment of weakness loses focus and inhales sharply _no._

Jaskier smells terrified, the sweet almost slick scent is gone; there’s just blood and terror and anxiety and pain and Geralt recoils like he’s been struck. Geralt’s sudden movement sends Jaskier shuffling away from Geralt, sends Jaskier, strong beautiful sweet Jaskier, cowering backed up towards the wall and away from Geralt.

"Sorry Alpha didn’t mean to" Jaskier whimpers more to the floor than Geralt, "shouldn't have alpha, I know better now" Jaskier’s breathing grows shakier and suddenly Geralt’s control is no longer an issue the fight induced rut he had been trying to avoid since he first caught Jaskier’s scent has been stopped in its tracks by the terrified whimpering boy on the floor.

Geralt needs to fix this now. he takes a lurching step towards Jaskier freezing when ~~his,~~ no not his never going to be his after this mess, the omega hits the wall trying desperately to maintain the distance between them, "Jask," Geralt whispers in a tone of voice normally reserved for soothing Roach after a hunt, he winces when Jaskier keens baring his throat in response, seemingly beyond words lost to his biology, pushed too far by Geralt’s frankly awful behavior. No wonder they call him a monster, when he turns the strongest omega he’s ever met to a broken cowering mess over a fucking pillow.

Geralt takes another halting step forward watching in horror as Jaskier presents, no scent of slick to be found just stress and anxiety burning Geralt’s nose "Jaskier, little bird," Geralt tries knows that he is practically begging as he crouches down in front of his boy "None of that now" Geralt soothes as Jaskier whimpers, arching his back even further.

"Didn’t mean to be bad" Jaskier’s voice breaks, barely above a whisper, "Bad, bad, omega" Jaskier mutters sniffling into the hard unforgiving floor of the inn, "thinking alpha wants you, dirty bad omega." Jaskier seems to have forgotten Geralt’s presence, just muttering to himself, seemingly caught in a loop "Needy awful bad" Jaskier’s muttering, whimpering, shaking, waiting to be punished. His biology finally pushing Geralt too far, forcing his omeganess on him for too long, taking liberties, and finally committing one sin too many.

Jaskier fights the urge to flinch as Geralt reaches out touching the exposed skin of his back, where his shirt had ridden up, exposing scars, concrete proof of what a bad omega Jaskier actually is, scars from all the other alphas he’s disappointed, he’s always a disappointment. Jaskier has been bad from the day he presented, always opening his mouth, always trying to build filthy nests, always clinging and hanging off people when he isn’t wanted, breaking rule after rule, and now Geralt _knows_. The scars are proof, proof that Jaskier has always been bad.

Jaskier bites his lip bloody, trying to minimize the damage, trying to hold back the desperate-bad-needy noises that keep spilling out of his throat. As usual, he’s made such a mess out of things, he knew it wouldn’t last, even Geralt in his infinite patience wouldn’t be deceived forever. Jaskier hadn't meant for things to get to this point, normally he spends his spare coin on some company so he doesn’t grow too annoying for Geralt to put up with, paying some kind beta to pet his hair maybe give him a few hugs or even a good boy Jaskier if he can work up the courage to ask, but he spent the extra on his pillow, thinking it would be enough, that it could replace the touch and the scent, but it’s been so long and his skin aches all the time, he’s been needing his pillow more and more lately, he hadn’t meant to be annoying with it, and he hadn’t realized he wasn’t allowed to sleep in the bed without alpha. Jaskier isn’t completely senseless, he does try to follow rules when he knows—

Jaskier’s mind suddenly goes silent, his spiraling thoughts halting because suddenly _Geralt’s hand is touching him! Him! Dirty, nasty, poorly behaved Jaskier! Getting soft nice touches from Geralt!_ Jaskier keens sweetly, unable to stop himself from pushing up against Geralt’s hand, relaxing further as Geralt doesn’t pull away even after his little slip in behavior. _Geralt is a saint willingly touching such a bad omega! It’s been so long since he was good enough to earn actual touch!_

Geralt swallows down the rage, Jaskier doesn’t need that right now. The noises pouring out of the omega’s throat and the scent of desperation filling Geralt’s very being are proof enough that the poor boy has gone so far beyond touch starvation that he has clearly developed full-blown skin sickness. Skin sick, his Jaskier is skin sick and he didn’t even notice, didn’t pick up on the signs, the paleness, the loss of appetite, the chills. Geralt starts to think, Jaskier had always been that pale hadn’t he, and he never did eat much always leaving Geralt the lions share, and fuck. Jaskier has complained that every room they’ve stayed in was cold, Geralt thought it was just cajoling him into sharing a bed instead of using his blanket roll on the floor or simply meditating through the night, but what if, what if Jaskier had been feeling the worst of the skin sickness symptoms since before they met.

"Fuck" Geralt mutters pulling away from Jaskier, doing his best to make his rough gravelly voice soothing, "just hold on one-minute Jask" Geralt struggles with his armor, shucking it off quicker than he ever has before, quicker even than that time he got coated in basilisk venom, "just a moment more Jask" Geralt rips some straps as Jaskier starts whimpering and shaking at the loss of contact, finally tugging his undershirt over his head, leaving his chest bare.

Geralt gently tugs Jaskier out of the present pose, cursing himself for not doing so sooner when Jaskier’s bones and joints pop and crack from the strain, "That’s a good hor—omega" Geralt winces at the slip-up, so used to reserving any gentleness for Roach, he sighs hating the harshness of his tone and the awkwardness in his voice, he clears his throat before trying again "you’re ok Jask," he gently loops the boy's clammy arms around his neck before rising, one arm supporting the boy's weight under his ass the other pressing Jaskier’s face to his neck, hoping, praying, that the pheromones will do some of the work, undoing some of the damage, to at least start settling the boy.

Jaskier whimpers taking big greedy gulps of air inhaling Geralt’s scent with the desperation of a drowning man. "OK, that’s—that’s good Jask, Ill fix this" Geralt is an ass, he is an irredeemable ass who couldn’t care for a rock let alone an omega. Jaskier has been soldiering on, on the verge of collapse from skin sickness and Geralt took his one comfort item, _ripped the one thing that was probably helping him from his arms, for what? For dreaming?_

He knows Jaskier is an omega, even if Jaskier lacks the usual curves and complexion his scent _god his scent_ is unmistakable. Geralt didn’t realize, he didn’t think that things could possibly be, that things were this bad. Geralt paces for a moment, shushing and bouncing Jaskier like a babe, panicking wracking his mind, searching for something—for anything that will help fix this.

T _he pillow_ "I'll fix it Jask, I’ll get you what you need" Geralt walks towards the door wincing when Jaskier starts to panic again.

"won’t be bad, no bed no door" Jaskier whines desperately "I’ll be good now Alpha, know the rules" Jaskier’s hands scramble at the back of Geralt’s neck, clinging desperately. “Won’t be bad Alpha.”

Geralt takes a deep steadying breath, he did so much damage with his stupid jealousy "You're so good Jask" Geralt soothes in the kindest tone his vocal cords are capable of, taking gentle steady steps towards the door, trying to keep Jaskier distracted "Alpha is proud, such a good strong omega" a litany of praises falling from Geralt’s lips as he presses Jaskier’s face into his neck.

"So good So strong" Geralt winces as the door squeaks making Jaskier tense "that’s a good boy" Geralt pulls the pillow back into the room wincing at the trail of stuffing left behind, his claws had clearly done a number on it. Geralt shuts the door and leans against it breathing hard, Jaskier won’t shaking, "do you want your pillow Jask?" Geralt offers, bouncing Jaskier a bit to grab his focus. Geralt hopes maybe the pillow will be enough to soothe the shaking boy in his arms, to level him out enough to run and get a healer. 

"Please alpha, don’t send me away," Jaskier begs, shaking even more, almost sobbing "Please, just a few more minutes, won’t be bad again." Jaskier is wailing by the end, his hands tightening unknowingly pressing little crescent shapes into the back of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt curses under his breath, immediately resuming the shushing, stroking one hand up Jaskier’s shirt wincing at the needy noises that pour out of his lips in response, "You're ok little bird," Geralt soothes heading towards the bed, "I'd never send you away, you can have all the pillows you want" Geralt keeps up a stream of nonsense “I’ll buy you the softest furs and a thousand pillows,” Geralt rambles on about pillows as he starts easing them down onto the bed, gripping Jaskier tightly as he starts to panic again "Alpha wants you in his bed" Geralt tenses, once again he’s been too harsh and failed to keep his tone soft, but relaxes as Jaskier stops struggling. Right, Jaskier is an omega, omegas crave commands and rules, Jaskier hasn’t been told rules, Geralt is a brute who accidentally snarl at omegas for daring to sit on the bed, Jaskier thought he wasn’t allowed. Geralt berates himself for being so bad with words, Jaskier is the one who’s good with words.

Jaskier feels Geralt’s hands at the hem of his nightshirt "Just gonna take this off Jask you need skin" _SKIN_ it has been so long since Jaskier’s been allowed skin, been worthy of being touched, "not gonna hurt you sweet boy, didn’t realize" Geralt keeps whispering into his hair, saying sweet lovely things, but it's so hard to focus, Geralt’s hands are on _his_ skin. "Didn’t mean to scare you little bird" Geralt apologizes as he pulls Jaskier’s shirt off of him.

Suddenly Jaskier is drowning, there’s so much, so much skin so much warmth and Jaskier fears he will shake apart from the needwantcarelovewarm. Geralt exhales through his teeth as Jaskier falls forward against him rubbing a soothing hand up and down the boys back as he mouths at Geralt’s collarbone "that’s it sweet boy, take what you need," Geralt lays them back, pulling a blanket over the top of them to keep Jaskier from getting chilled.

There will be time tomorrow to talk. To talk about how Jaskier is allowed to need, to get names to go with the scars decorating his boy’s back, to confess that had he known he would have never left Jaskier to suffer. There is time tomorrow to fix everything, so Geralt lets his eyes drift closed for just a moment, letting himself have this, letting himself indulge in the sweetneedlovehomeomegawarm scent wafting up from Jaskier. This. Geralt didn't realize how much he missed this, how long has it been since Geralt had his omega laid across his chest, since his nose was full of that sweet scent that has come to mean home.

Geralt feels the alpha in him settle, the tension leaving him like it was never there, his body completely relaxing in a way that he hasn’t in weeks, tension continues to fall away as Jaskier’s heart rate slows, his scent finally losing the edge of desperation he’s been soaked in for so long.

"That’s a good boy, good omega" Geralt rumbles heaping praise on Jaskier doing his best to undo the damage he caused, silently counting every raised scar on the omega's back, silently promising to make sure another is never added.

Jaskier mutters something incomprehensible into Geralt’s chest "what’s that little bird? what do you need" Geralt says tipping Jaskier’s chin up, rumbling as Jaskier instinctively sucks at one of his fingers that drift too close to his sinful little mouth, “say it and it’s yours little bird.”

"Maybe..." Jaskier starts, blushing he looks away unable to meet Geralt’s eyes, "maybe if you don’t mind... That is, if I’m good, I could, I could maybe be _your_ boy?" Jaskier’s voice is barely a whisper by the time he finishes his confession and Geralt’s heart breaks for the thousandth time that night.

Geralt pulls Jaskier closer a pleased and possessive rumble vibrating out of his chest "Of course my good boy,” Geralt presses a kiss to the crown of Jaskier’s head, he can feel Jaskier’s burning cheek pressed to the crook of his neck, “All you had to do was ask, my sweet omega, my good, _good_ boy." Geralt kisses Jaskier’s head once more, his arms tightening around his bard as he goes boneless, finally content.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt takes Jaskier to a healer, no one manages to use their big boy words.

Geralt wakes first the morning after, well after everything. He keeps still in bed trying not to disturb the omega splayed across his chest, letting Jaskier sleep as long as he can. Geralt watches as sun creeps across the room warming Jaskier's exposed skin, his scarred, pale exposed skin and frowns, he is thin, how did Geralt never even question how boney Jaskier is? True, his silken fancy doublets, with their stiff stitching and their folds and slashes, hid it rather well, but laid bare Geralt can count the ridges of Jaskier’s spine his skin is dry and chapped like they’ve been riding through a winter storm, whipped raw by the wind on a barren stretch of a long hard ride and Geralt is indescribably guilty.

How did Jaskier get like this? How did Geralt not question how an omega, supposedly raised in the comfort and safety of a nobleman’s house, ends up malnourished and so small, completely lacking in curves and soft lines the rest of his gender flaunts. How did a boy raised with every advantage look worse than some forgotten war orphan left behind by one of Nilfgaard’s campaigns?

This stops today, the neglect intended or not has to be put to an end. Geralt isn't going to allow whatever this is to continue, he can’t let Jaskier continue on like this marching slowly towards his grave, he'll take him to a healer, first whatever passes for a healer in this backwater hamlet, and later someone with better skills, maybe even whoever treated Jaskier as a boy, it would be good to enlist the help of someone familiar with Jaskier’s health. 

Once they’ve seen the healers, once Geralt knows exactly what care Jaskier needs, then he’ll mate him and bundle him away safely in the halls of Kaer Mohren. He will tuck away his omega nestled amidst the only family Geralt has ever known and then Geralt will simply hunt around the castle, never straying more than a few days ride away. It would be nice to have more of a home base and Vesemir would enjoy Jaskier’s company, he just knows it. Geralt feels a pleased rumble start up in his chest at the thought of his plan, he’s never been the smartest of men, too blunt for the nuance needed for most strategy, but he can do this, he can manage to help Jaskier.

Jaskier tenses when Geralt’s chest starts to rumble, this should be a dream come true for Jaskier, waking sandwiched between his Witcher and the afternoon sun. Were Jaskier a better omega he would be demure and sweet, but he is not, he’s just Jaskier so he freezes shame and panic filling his scent as he feels his bare skin against Geralt’s.

God, he had been so stupid last night, losing control, begging, letting Geralt _see_ just how bad of an omega Jaskier really is. Geralt may be kind, but even he won’t want to keep such a greedy, inconsiderate omega. Geralt will send him away, he won’t be heartless (he is, after all, Geralt), perhaps he'll leave Jaskier in a nicer village, maybe in the south where it's warm. Jaskier has missed being warm, God is Geralt warm, Jaskier will miss this terribly when he’s sent away.

Geralt inhales as Jaskier’s scent sours and his muscles tense so hard that Geralt wonders for a split second if the tension will snap Jaskier’s fragile bones. He needs to help and this needs to stop "We're going to the healer Jaskier" Geralt winces when Jaskier flinches at his voice, at the harshness of his tone, his voice gravely from sleep and perpetual lack of use.

_No, nonononono a healer_. Geralt is going to send him away even sooner, he is going to see him laid bare, even his shameful awful parts, and he is going to be told in no uncertain words that Jaskier isn’t even good for the one thing that omegas are remotely useful for. Geralt is going to see how wrong his body is, how bad he’s been, the worst of the scars were still covered, they’ll tell him, _Geralt is going to know._

"Yes Alpha" Jaskier whispers with a faraway look on his face that doesn’t bode well for the omega’s nerves, his eyes are so dull, so unlike Jaskier. The omega slips away from Geralt, already shivering, and slides out of bed, coltish limbs and all, face still sleep flushed, and starts to pull on his clothes quickly his shoulders hunched protectively. That—that was maybe more abrupt than Geralt intended, he isn't used to _this_ Jaskier, this Jaskier that requires a sweetness that was burned out of Geralt by mutagens and training, "Jaskier--"

"Sorry, I'll be ready soon" Jaskier mutters picking up the pace, hiding his sins under layers of cotton and silk until he looks like Jaskier The Bard again instead of Jaskier The Disappointment. It won't do, to have Geralt already mad at him before the healer can out him as broken.

_Oh,_ Geralt is frankly shocked by the difference that few layers of fabric can make, a few ties and buckles and suddenly he can’t imagine Jaskier as anything but his confident annoying bard, doublets and smiles, that’s how Geralt didn’t know. With all the layers he could be any young beta son of a noble, a short beta but he could be a beta no less. If it weren’t for that scent Geralt would never even know, hell he bets half the alphas who meet Jaskier can’t tell, with his faint subtle scent that Geralt has always enjoyed, always seen as a respite for his sensitive nose, it’s a wonder that he reads as an omega at all.

He doesn’t look like one, Jaskier doesn’t have the curves or the budding breasts and puffy nipples every other omega seems to shove in Geralt’s face when they come knocking wanting the prestige of bedding a Witcher. his hips aren’t wide, they don’t sway as he walks like the rest of the fairest sex; Jaskier is all angles and bones, skin stretched tight over his frame. Fuck how did Geralt, the one alpha without the excuse of the subtlety of Jaskier’s natural musk, think this was remotely healthy.

"I'll-- We can fix this Jask, the healer will make you better" Geralt mutters pulling on a shirt ignoring his armor, still crusty with blood from the night before. _Fuck that is going to rust._ Geralt pushes away the thought, he would let his armor rust to dust for Jaskier, to get back his boisterous annoying bard, for things to go back to normal.

"Yes Alpha" Geralt hears as he finishes dressing, Jaskier is standing by the door, a demure picture of a courtly omega. _Fuck_ this is not how Geralt wanted this to go, he wanted to be sweet to Jaskier, to give him that tenderness he reserves for Roach when she’s done particularly well on a hunt. To wrap him in softness, he'll do better, get his bard back, tuck him away with his family and give him a home among the Witchers, and everything will be normal. Yes, stick to the plan, he can work on sweetness later, Jaskier will be loud again and tell him what he needs eventually. They just have to weather this storm first.

Geralt grits his teeth grunting at Jaskier and leads him out of the room, out of the inn, and across the square. Geralt sighs in frustration, how is the healer for this godforsaken filth pit above a butcher, how are people expected to take their most fragile loved ones through a shop reeking of blood. Even Jaskier can smell the blood and death with how the boy is shaking as they get closer, Geralt rubs a hand over the boy’s head in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. At least this godforsaken town is big enough for a healer, not a great one, but Jaskier doesn’t have time to wait for them to be in a bigger town, this will have to do.

Geralt swears again to hunt down whatever courtly physician Jaskier is accustomed to when they step into the tiny butcher’s shop and omega fear floods his senses almost overpowering the smell of blood. “We’ll see a better healer soon Jaskier.” Geralt tries before pushing him towards the stairs to get to the healer who occupies the set of rooms on the second story.

In the confined small room that passes for an examination suite, all Geralt can smell is the blood of stuck pigs and how miserable Jaskier smells as the boy fidgets from one foot to the other arms crossed around himself in a gesture reminiscent of the self-soothing motions often seen in undiscovered pre-omega children. There is never modesty with healers, cold foreign hands on his skin poking and prodding him.

Jaskier knows that but he still flinches when the fat older beta tells him to disrobe. Jaskier shakes as he removes layer after layer of fabric, unable to enjoy the normal respite that comes with not having to wear the layers of scratchy fabric, he misses the soft things he was allowed as a young boy, before he was older and an adult and no longer allowed soft or nice things.

Jaskier stands shivering and exposed, arms tense at his sides as his nails press half-moons into his palms with the effort it takes not to pull away from the healer, to not cover up his, _his disfigurement_. The healer tuts at Jaskier as her hands poke and prod him, and Jaskier winces knowing there will be a trail of bruises documenting his visit. The heeler looks from Jaskier to the back of Geralt’s head with disappointed eyes before she goes back to palpitating Jaskier’s underdeveloped, almost disfigured anatomy.

Jaskier knows he looks awful. His skin is cracked and raw where the seams of his trousers normally sit and he looks as if he’s a barely presented pup, not an adult omega. He’s seen drawings, he knows that male omegas should have a puffy slit between their legs instead of an irritated underdeveloped gash, covered in perpetually split dry skin like the rest of him. He knows omegas are meant to have nice soft curves and breasts, but Jaskier had grown wrong. He had gotten fat and ugly and the court physician had done everything he could possibly try, but it hadn’t fixed Jaskier. Nothing could fix Jaskier, who was lazy and didn’t stick to his treatments, who had been so disappointing that he had run away.

“Aren’t you a slight thing hmm?” The healer says, breaking the silence that fell when Geralt turned his back and Jaskier stripped. Jaskier's cheeks are positively burning despite the rest of his body being frozen both from fear and the inescapable chill that seems to follow him. He knows that even for an omega he's small, he's always been small and healers have always been so disappointed, he knows he should have curves by now, that his slit should be puffy not a barely opened scar, he knows his complexion should be rosy, he knows!

Jaskier knows he misbehaved, but Geralt isn’t like the Alphas and Betas at court, he isn’t cruel. Jaskier just doesn’t understand why Geralt decided Jaskier needs this reminder, what purpose this humiliation could serve. Then again, he never understood why his beta parents chose to have him examined most of the time either.

The worst part is, in Jaskier’s opinion, that Geralt won’t even look at him, Geralt has had his omega stripped and examined and doesn’t even want to see if he’s worthy himself, willing to let the healer say if Jaskier’s good enough, he won't even look for himself, won’t grant Jaskier the small comfort of his gaze.

Geralt turned away once the healer told Jaskier to strip, wanting to preserve some of Jaskier’s modesty, he can do nothing about the healer's eyes on Jaskier’s skin, but he doesn’t need to make it worse. He deserves better, he doesn’t need Geralt invading his privacy for the sake of his own instincts making his gums itch with the desire to dispatch some invisible threat. Jaskier doesn’t need Geralt making things worse, he doesn’t need Geralt acting out and sending him spiraling deeper into the shamebadscared spiral absolutely pouring out of Jaskier’s scent glands. Jaskier deserves more than some Alpha with control issues violating what little bit of modesty he has left.

"You can get dressed now dear." Geralt hears the healer say softly to Jaskier. Finally! Finally, he can turn around after just a few moments more, he just has to give Jaskier enough time to dress, Geralt can manage that. Geralt, lost in thought, growls when he feels the healer's hand at his elbow "Let’s talk outside Witcher." The Beta healer guides Geralt out of the room, giving Jaskier privacy to collect himself. Even the beta can smell that the boy needs a moment.

The healer pulls the door shut behind them leading Geralt down the hall, down the hall and away from Jaskier, wanting to spare the boy the embarrassment of hearing Geralt’s reaction to things that the poor omega has to already know. An omega doesn’t get like that from a few months of sleeping rough, the condition of his skin alone speaks to years of neglect, never mind the state of his reproductive system.

"He isn't healthy," the healer starts slowly explaining things to Geralt as if he were a particularly dimwitted child, "this is the worst case of skin sickness I’ve seen in decades Witcher, omegas need touch, they aren’t like alphas or betas." She scolds.

Geralt nods gritting his teeth, explaining that Jaskier has always been like this, or at least that he was like this before he sat down across from him in that pub and turned his world upside down, that Geralt didn't starve him won’t help Jaskier. Saving himself from the blame for what’s happened won't help Jaskier, besides Geralt didn’t fix this sooner, he is just as at fault.

"Normally I'd recommend a good old fashioned mating and pupping, but well you must know,” the healer glances back down the hall at the closed exam room door, “that boy never even finished growing, I’ve never seen anything like it! I have no idea what sort of illness could cause this, it must have happened in his youth, was he sickly?” the healer trails off a bit before focusing back on Geralt, “He’s too weak to survive a bond bite, no reason to breed an omega when they won’t survive a heat, it won’t help."

The healer keeps talking and Geralt tries to focus, to listen, Jaskier isn’t developed, Jaskier is thin, Jaskier would die if he mated him, it will be hard for Jaskier to get better. Eventually Geralt tunes back in when the healer snaps at him "Witcher, he needs touch, whatever he’s done, it can’t be bad enough to deny him he is an omega after al! Surely there’s a less cruel punishment."

Geralt growls at the healer before he can catch himself, "He hid it," Geralt grits out "I’ve only known him a few months, maybe a year. I'll fix it now." Geralt almost plows down the healer as he turns to stalk down the hallway.   
“Wait!” the healer stops just short of actually putting her hands on Geralt’s chest, “This may be a childhood disease if you can track down the healer who worked with him before there may be a solution.”

Geralt grunts the affirmative before brushing past her. Jaskier is alone, Jaskier smells scared, Jaskier is miserable and cold he’s always so cold and Geralt should fix it. Geralt should at the very least be on his way to hunt down a court physician who could have been helping Jaskier this entire time, if Geralt had been smart enough to ask Jaskier the right questions.

The healer hurries after Geralt following him into the room clapping her hands together alerting Jaskier to their presence, "Right! Now Jaskier, do as your alpha says, no getting into trouble or hiding things anymore!" she starts voice full of fake cheer trying to cajole some of the misery out of his scent, "And you Mr. Witcher! Omegas aren’t hard, sleep food touch, remember!" She continues turning to face Geralt, face suddenly stony like a displeased school teacher facing a disobedient pupil. Geralt nods before walking past her to Jaskier’s side. He places a guiding hand at the small of the omega’s back before guiding Jaskier out of the room and out of the shop his hand never breaking contact with Jaskier. They have work to do, Geralt has work to do. He'll fix this.

_‘Do as your Alpha says’_ the words swim in Jaskier’s mind, Geralt must not want to be rid of him, the healer must have convinced him, she must have found something good to say about Jaskier. She was very kind, especially compared to—well to other healers. The ‘ _your’_ is the part that catches in his mind the most, the part that Jaskier chooses to focus on. Not the alpha, Jaskier’s alpha, like maybe Geralt wasn’t lying, like maybe Jaskier is capable of being good enough to earn Geralt’s mark.

Maybe that’s where they're going now, it isn’t like Geralt to take them back to the inn so soon, not when they’re low on supplies and he knows Geralt’s armor will need polish to get out the muck, so maybe that’s what’s going to happen, maybe he’s going to get to be Geralt’s. Jaskier puts a little more energy into the walk back to the inn than he did the slow march to the healer.

Jaskier glances up at Geralt’s stony face occasionally, Jaskier tries to remind himself that Geralt always looks like that, that Jaskier may not be entirely to blame. He was very sweet last night, letting Jaskier sleep on him, maybe it’s safe to ask about a bite, "Geralt, Alpha, I know--"

Geralt cuts him off "I'll mate you when you're ready" Geralt promises, thankful Jaskier knows, the healer was right there’s no way Jaskier is unaware of his condition. Geralt is thankful he doesn’t have to say those things to Jaskier, he doesn’t have to use words like underdeveloped or starved.

"Right" Jaskier looks down mood and scent souring a bit of course, he hasn’t been very obedient and last night he did say that if he was good, Jaskier tries to be happy with the fact that it isn't off the table, that Geralt hasn’t flat out told him no. Jaskier can work with this, he can be good, he can! He just has to prove it to Geralt first.

“I’ll help you get there Jaskier,” Geralt says with that unusually soft tone he’s been favoring with Jaskier since last night, “You don’t have to do it alone, I’ll take you to the physician you saw as a boy.” Geralt finishes face still grim.

This is worse than Jaskier thought, he knows he’s a bit worse than he was before, but he didn’t think—he didn’t think he was bad enough to need correction again. “You don’t have to Alpha!” Jaskier tries to soothe scrambling for a reason not to see Master Ulric again, any reason at all, “Master Ulric isn’t cheap, even my parents had a hard time with the—”

“Don’t worry about the coin Jaskier,” Geralt swipes a hand across Jaskier’s hair before pushing him towards the inn, “I’ll take care of it, I’m happy to pay for, Master Ulric was it?” Geralt pauses, only continuing when Jaskier nods the affirmative, still smelling of fear and misery, “I’m happy to pay for you to get better Jaskier, anything for my boy.”

“Thank you, Alpha.” Jaskier says to the ground, voice barely above a whisper. He’ll have to make himself better before Geralt can find Ulric, maybe if he can do that, he can be good enough on his own not to need further correction. Even if he has to be corrected, this time he’ll stick it out, anything to be Geralt’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT UP THIS IS SAD HUH? 
> 
> but really thank you all so much, I am overwhelmed by how much you guys like my sad bullshit and how nice you all are about this. this was going to be a one shot and now it is LONG there's more to come but like I make no promises as to how long it will take, but like eventually it will be nice and I've decided Vesemir is gonna be an omega because the mpreg server commands it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier figures out his first new rule in his master plan to not ever see a medical professional again what a mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look guys the next couple of chapters are going to be a bit like pulling teeth for me so you're gonna have to bear with me but I promise this is going somewhere? but also I mean you don't have to read my bullshit soooooooo

Jaskier wants to be mated, he’s wanted to be mated ever since he first heard that mates existed, since he found out that if he was good (if he was really really good) one day someone would love him forever. Jaskier wants to be loved forever so badly he can taste it and now it’s just beyond his grasp.

Geralt, perfect Geralt who shares food with Jaskier and lets him snuggle into his side when it’s too cold and doesn’t leave Jaskier behind for being bad, said he will mate Jaskier when he’s ready. That he will help Jaskier get there, even saying he’ll pay for Master Ulric to train him again. Geralt is willing to put the effort into training Jaskier so he can be good enough to be the Witcher’s mate.

Therein lies the problem, Jaskier wasn’t strong enough to handle training with Master Ulric, he was so weak he even ran away from training. He was barely recovered from Ulric’s methods when he met Geralt he can’t go back there (he will of course, if Geralt thinks it’s best, he will do anything to earn Geralt’s bite). He was so bad at training, he always whined, and his skin hurt, and he was always breaking rules! He would steal food from the kitchens when he wasn’t allowed anymore, he would sleep naked avoiding the harsh fabrics that kept him awake, he even was so poorly behaved as to construct a nest inside of his wardrobe! No, Jaskier can’t risk training again, Geralt seems convinced Jaskier could get better and he doesn’t want Geralt to see him fail.

Jaskier lies awake in Geralt’s arms, contemplating his situation, and slowly he starts to formulate a plan. He needs to keep Geralt distracted and make sure they don’t stray too close to Lettenhove and with it Master Ulric (really Jaskier intends to keep them out of the whole of Kerack). He just needs to keep Geralt away from the coast long enough to get better on his own, if he’s better there’s no reason to go see Master Ulric!

If there is one thing Jaskier learned at court it's that Omegas are meant to become what their Alphas need. They’re meant to be blank slates without needs ready to become whatever their Alpha commands, that what Master Ulric specialized in, making Omegas blank, getting rid of those terrible awful needs and keeping them slight and ready to be molded. Maybe, if Jaskier can learn the rules early, before Geralt has to tell them to him, Jaskier can mold himself into such a good fit that his Alpha won’t need him to become blank first before he’s worth mating and maybe even breeding. If Jaskier can get all the bad habits under control perhaps Geralt will mate him even if he has been awfully needy in the past!

Some of the basics are pretty universal, and Jaskier no matter how bad he was at obeying them does remember the basics. An omega is not needy. An omega trusts that his Alpha knows best. An omega does not ask for more. An omega is obedient. The basics are a good place to start, Jaskier will learn the more Geralt-specific rules on the fly. He can be clever, after all Geralt didn’t even want Jaskier following him initially and now he’s lying in his bed. Jaskier just knows he can be good this time.

Jaskier feels his body relax, tension leaving him now that he has a plan. Distract Geralt, keep him inland riding away from Kerack, to give himself time to figure out the rules for being a Witcher’s Omega, to being Geralt’s Omega more specifically. Mind made up and soothed by the thought of having a plan Jaskier finally slips off to sleep.

~~*~~

Jaskier’s first real rule comes to him when he is packing up and checking the room for forgotten items before they can leave the inn. He finds his omega comfort pillow under the bed missing half of it’s stuffing and a light goes off in his head. Rule one for being Geralt’s Omega, No comfort objects. It makes sense really if Jaskier thinks about it. What Alpha in their right mind would breed an Omega who acts so childish as to carry around what is essentially a soft toy. Jaskier winces at how embarrassing he behaved; begging for the pillow at the market, carrying it shamelessly into every inn they’ve stopped at since, even going so far as to cuddle the pillow when Geralt decided they should stop to rest on the road. No wonder Geralt thinks that he needs work.

Jaskier pushes the pillow deeper under the bed, hiding it from view so he won’t be tempted to press his face into it one last time. Alpha knows best and will give him what he needs once he proves himself worthy. Jaskier’s knees shake as he stands and walks away from the bed, this is harder than he thought. Jaskier hadn’t realized how dependent he had become on the alpha scented lump of fabric. Yes, it smelled nice, and yes it was the softest thing Jaskier had touched since before he presented, but a good omega is not needy.

A good omega accepts what touch he has earned. Jaskier may have been a miserable student but at least that much had stuck with him. He’ll adjust he was fine before the pillow and he will be fine after. Jaskier turns away from the bed and strides resolutely out the door to go find Geralt, after all he still needs to convince him to ride inland.

Geralt frowns when he sees Jaskier come down the stairs on shaking knees and no sign of his beloved pillow. He struggles internally for a bit about bringing it up, Jaskier seems so fragile still and one more coarsely spoken word may be what breaks him, but, eventually, Geralt decides it will be worse in the long run if they leave without the damned thing.

“Jaskier,” Geralt clears his throat when Jaskier jumps a little before continuing in a softer tone, “you forgot your pillow, go get it we have to get going.” Geralt tries his best to keep his tone sweet, to make sure that Jaskier doesn’t feel like he’s being scolded.

“Don’t need it anymore Alpha.” Jaskier’s voice is barely above a whisper and Geralt winces a bit at the sadness in the boy’s eyes. His claws must have torn it worse than he realized and Jaskier is putting on a brave face.

“Are you sure, if it’s—”

“I’m sure Alpha” Jaskier cuts off Geralt, his voice rushed, a bit of panic seeping into his scent.

“OK, that’s fine Jask, that’s good.” Geralt takes the bags from Jaskier trying to cut off the impending panic attack, “Take some coin and get some bread and cheese for the road.”

Jaskier takes the coin smiling, his scent lightening almost instantly. “Yes Alpha.” Jaskier scampers off to do as he was told. He was clearly right about the pillow, Geralt said it was good.

Jaskier is doing fine without his pillow, he is. Yes, his skin itches and he’s cold most of the time but he just needs to adjust. The constant ache and fog that seems to fill his head is completely unrelated and just happens to have cropped up during the adjustment period, it’s a coincidence.

Geralt helps with the adjustment, he ensures to rub a hand over Jaskier’s head once a day, and on nights he isn’t on a hunt he makes sure to hold Jaskier for a bit. True there are less inns as of late, and more sleeping full dressed, and Jaskier hasn’t felt a hand on his bare skin in what feels like an eternity, but he’s adjusting. In the very beginning Geralt had told him the road was no place for an omega and Jaskier can’t risk proving him right. Not when he’s just starting to convince him he can be good enough.

It’s a few days into his adjustment before Geralt tests him, offers to buy Jaskier a new pillow in the next town with a market large enough to have luxury items but Jaskier resists. He’s been tested before he is familiar with tests and doesn’t fall into the trap. Jaskier repeats his rule like a good omega, he proudly tells Geralt “I don’t need a comfort item Alpha, you’re more than enough!” Geralt doesn’t trick him like Ulric would, he doesn’t keep insisting that it would be fine if he did so he can catch him. Jaskier is thankful and later that night when Geralt holds Jaskier tight under his arm to Jaskier it feels like a reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I EDITED NOTHING AND I AM ONLY A LITTLE SORRY


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHAT UP ITS YA BOI HERE WITH A SUPER LATE CHAPTER IN WHICH EVERYONE IS SADDDDDDDDDD

They do travel inland in the end. Geralt is, as always, too good to refuse Jaskier’s selfish request to ride inland away from the coast (Jaskier had claimed the salt was hard on his hair and Geralt had relented to take a longer route after saying growing up noble had made him vain and Jaskier smiled and laughed, pretending the reprimand didn’t sting). The route is longer and the roads a bit harsher and less used, but Geralt is always happier when there’s less people around so things even out a bit.

  
Jaskier is happier to be away from the coast, and because a happy Geralt means that he is looser with the rules, letting Jaskier sleep under his arm on occasion, and giving him more food than he should. Jaskier is content with these glimpses of a sweet Geralt, pressing bites of rabbit meat between Jaskier’s lips by firelight, and Jaskier is happy. How could he not be happy with all he’s been given, with this second chance to prove to the Alpha that he is worth mating.

  
Jaskier does his best with the rougher terrain, keeping his lips pressed tightly shut, never complaining. He wouldn’t dare to complain out loud, but the roads are hard, and the towns are far apart and eventually, despite his best efforts, it does start to show. He had saved coin for a warmer cloak but the last few towns lacked tailors of their own. Jaskier’s frilly shirts and slashed doublets while fashionable and worn a bit soft from washing (he hasn’t bought a new doublet since he ran away from home) aren’t the warmest of clothes, last winter he simply wandered south and toughed it out.

  
Jaskier supposes that his clothes are perhaps more suited to courtly life, or even singing for his supper in taverns, than they are to following a Witcher around and living rough, but Jaskier hasn’t seen a need to replace them really before this sudden cold snap. Jaskier resolves to buy a cloak with the last of his savings in the next town, even if he must buy it second hand it will be better than his teeth chattering out of his head in the middle of the night. After all, Jaskier had lost a few buttons traipsing through the woods and his doublet has been hanging open ever since and with the wind his skin has gotten progressively more and more chapped.

  
The other problem is Jaskier, despite Geralt’s patience and sweetness, has been disappointing Geralt the entire time, the Alpha had smelled frustrated since they left the last town. Jaskier had stupidly let the nice old lady behind the bar ruffle his hair in a moment of weakness after Geralt had been on a hunt for the last two days. He hadn’t meant to give in to his weakness but his skin hurt so badly, and sleeping alone was so so hard, and he honestly didn’t realize Geralt was coming back that day. If Jaskier had known he wouldn’t have been in the bar in just his undershirt, he wouldn’t have slipped a few of his coins to the nice old woman so she would rub his hair gently, untangling some twigs he had acquired walking through the woods on the way into town.

  
Geralt gritted his teeth, almost seeing red when he saw Jaskier practically begging for scraps of affection from the beta barmaid. Geralt had fucked up; Jaskier had his head tilted back the long line of his throat and collar bone exposed, his red chapped skin on display, damning evidence of Geralt’s failures as an alpha on display for all to see as the strange woman worked her fingers through Jaskier’s hair; and Jaskier, Jaskier was practically vibrating under her fingers. Geralt hadn’t meant to leave Jaskier alone long enough to become so desperate as to let a stranger touch him. He hadn’t meant to fuck it up so soon after the healer told him explicitly not to. They needed the coin and the village needed a monster slayed.

  
Geralt used to leave him alone for much longer without him getting this desperate, but of course then he had had some sort of comfort to fall back on. He had his pillow before Geralt had destroyed it like the jealous monstrous brute he always seems to become where Jaskier is concerned. Geralt had taken Jaskier’s source of comfort and dumped him alone in a foreign town. No wonder his omega as desperate.

  
Geralt had dragged Jaskier to their room at the inn, not acknowledging the barmaid when he yanked Jaskier behind him, missing the way Jaskier winced as his raw skin chafed against his sleeve under Geralt’s iron grip or the way he stumbled a bit dizzy from moving too quickly. Geralt was of a singular focus as he dragged the desperate omega along behind him forgetting to be gentle to even greet Jaskier beyond spitting out his name through gritted teeth.

  
Geralt spent the night running his hands through Jaskier’s hair and sniffing him until all traces of scents that weren’t uniquely Geralt had been chased away. Jaskier relished in the care, barely wincing when his hair was tugged a little too tight, or when Geralt ghosted fingers over the cloth covering the still forming bruise that mirrored his grip. He nodded in agreement when Geralt lectured him that he could tell Geralt when he needed to be touched, that strangers are dangerous for an omega, that he shouldn’t go around in his underclothes he’ll catch a chill.

  
Geralt knows that, realistically, he should have handled seeing Jaskier under another’s ministrations, omegas regularly seek out touch they need it and crave it and it would be unreasonable for an alpha, especially one who leaves their omega alone for days at a time in a foreign land with no comforting scents, to think he could be all that his omega needs. He knows that his jealousy is unreasonable but Jaskier is without his mark, another could claim him and take him if Geralt’s scent were to be erased. Jaskier wouldn’t survive a claim, and Geralt wouldn’t survive losing Jaskier.

  
Jaskier learned a lot of lessons that night, lessons that roll over in his mind again and again after that night, once he proves he knows them to Geralt he will stop grunting at him, stop gripping his wrist so tightly, stop being angry that he had had to spell it out for Jaskier. Maybe he will give Jaskier some of those nice touches he got before, maybe even some skin on skin contact once he proves how good he can be. Now though, Jaskier at least knows the rules. He knows that an omega will be modest and that an omega will not seek touch from anyone but their alpha. Two ways Jaskier has been making a mess of things and ruining his chances but now he can do better, he can get modest clothing, he can make sure he’s never caught paying for companionship again.

  
Jaskier chants his rules inside his head the entire trek to the next town to ensure he doesn’t fill the silence with his stupid songs or his even stupider complaints. If Jaskier deserved a break Geralt would grant one, to complain would simply dig his grave deeper. He had been so foolish to not realize his behavior was shameful; paying for affection, letting another rub their hands over what Geralt rightfully owned, Jaskier can’t believe how foolish he was, how selfish. Jaskier wants to belong to Geralt, which means he needs to be what Geralt wants. Geralt wants a modest omega, Geralt wants an omega who isn’t so needy to not be content with what his alpha decides he deserves, Geralt wants an omega unbothered by harsh roads no matter how thin their boots have worn. Jaskier vows to do and be better as they approach the next town, he won’t make a mess of things here.

  
“Alpha?” Jaskier starts anxiously clearing his through a bit, his voice gravelly from disuse, “Would you mind if I got some warmer clothes?” Jaskier bites his lip trying to stave off the rambling begging he knows is about to fall out of his lips “They could be second hand, nothing expensive, it’s just, it’s getting cold.” Jaskier finishes as a shiver runs down his spine.

  
“That’s fine.” Geralt grunts, pleased that Jaskier is asking for something, but disappointed that he didn’t think of it himself sooner, “We don’t have much coin-” Geralt mutters, embarrassed that he is seemingly incapable of caring for his omega.

  
“It will be enough!” Jaskier laughs nervously, “Silk doublets don’t belong on the road!” Jaskier jokes, blushing at his past mistakes, at how long it took him to realize how inappropriate his clothing was, drawing attention to himself like some idiot peacock.

  
When they get to town Geralt hands over a small pile of coins to Jaskier and shoos him in the direction of a tailor before going off to book them a room at the inn and enquire about the signs for the beast and the reward for killing it they had followed into town. Jaskier grips his meager coins in his fist and watches Geralt go before turning towards the tailor’s shop.

  
He knows he doesn’t have enough for what he needs, but he has a few extra coins in the bottom of his pack, and if he sells his current clothes and doesn’t get new boots, he should have enough, he should have enough to stop parading around taverns like some common whore, embarrassing and disappointing Geralt with every movement. Jaskier has a plan.

  
Jaskier manages to wheedle his way into a cloak, thicker but rougher trousers, a rough woven but high collared shirt, a tight but plain doublet, and his most treasured find an oversized women’s nightgown. He has to part with his old clothes and his stash of coins to do so but in the end it’s worth it. The man behind the counter had offered to measure Jaskier’s bare torso, his eyes roving over him tutting at his too thin ribs and cracked sore skin before Jaskier announced that that wouldn’t be necessary before snatching the clothes that the tailor had guessed would fit the boy. An omega will not seek touch from anyone but their alpha.

  
Jaskier tries not to wince as his already chafed skin is rubbed by the rough cloth as he marches back to the inn, only his hands and face exposed to the air. This will be better, this is how an omega should dress: plain colors, and covering as much of his sinful flesh as possible; after all an omega will be modest.

  
Jaskier falls back on reciting his rules as he approaches the inn to find Geralt to show him that he can be good: an omega is not needy, an omega trusts that his Alpha knows best an omega does not ask for more, an omega is obedient, an omega does not need comfort objects, an omega only needs to be touched by their alpha, an omega will be modest. Jaskier grits his teeth as his skin adjusts to the hash fabrics and hopes this will be enough, that Geralt will be forgiving of his past mistakes and see how hard he is trying now, Jaskier will keep his skin covered for the rest of his days, anything is better than seeing Master Ulric again. Jaskier shudders at the thought but keeps going, he has an Alpha to impress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look I am an inconsistent writer and I am sadddddddd

**Author's Note:**

> so i didnt edit that really but here we are! writing bullshit and making jaskier cry!


End file.
